Riders of Burhar
by Doom Squirrel
Summary: One hundred years ago, the Riders fell. But did they all die? In a far away country, a group of riders hear some startling rumors. A new dragon in Alagaesia? Maybe it's a sign that now is the time to return, and fight for their home.
1. A message, a discussion, and a decision

Hello, Kindra here. I've never written a fic for Eragon before - and I certainly never planned to be writing one as epic as this is going to be.

The original idea for this came from me being a bit freaked out by the idea of Saphira being the mother of an entire species. Paolini had some good ideas, but frankly, that freaked me out. You need more genetic diversity than that for a species to thrive (Yes, I know it's fantasy, but it still bothered me). How that idea became this enormous fic, I still do not know.

Enjoy the ride, guys, and please give me feedback!

* * *

When Gion Hanorssen awoke his wife was already gone, and there was wilted grass stuck to his cheek, creeping into his mouth. The former was hardly unusual – his wife was the earliest riser he had ever met (and as Gion was one hundred and fourteen years old, this was saying a lot). The latter was the less than pleasant result of falling asleep while watching the stars. 

He stretched lazily, his hand brushing against warm scales.

"Morning, Helnt," he greeted the dragon.

A contented rumble answered him, the dragon's purr, _Lin left with Quenna two hours ago. And I'll be heading out to hunt today._

"Again?" he asked, "You went hunting two days ago. And you got at least four wild boars, so you can't say that you're still hungry."

_Gabel and I are going to fight an elephant, when he gets up._

Gion shook his head at the dragons' antics, "All right, just be more careful this time. I don't want to have to patch you up again."

_I don't want you to patch me up either. Jace is much better at it._

"You wound my pride, Helnt," he replied wryly, "Try not to wound your body to match. I'll check in with Sridhar and then go make sure Quenna hasn't corrupted my wife."

_You're seventy years too late to prevent that, my friend._

"Yes, I know," Gion sighed, "Go on! I'll see you later."

The dragon left with a rumbling chuckle, and Gion got up. His back popped, and he winced. He was really too old to not be sleeping in a bed, but seeing the falling stars last night had been worth it. And it had been the first time in a long while that he'd finally been able to spend some time alone with Lin, just being her husband, and not worrying about his duties to anyone but her.

He smiled warmly at the thought of his wife, and then shook his head. He was getting sentimental in his old age. He dusted some dead grass off of his clothing, getting to his feet. One of the rajah's numerous pet monkeys, which had apparently been using his feet as a stool, cursed at him as he got up. He sent a vague, soothing thought in its direction, and it scampered off.

He checked his reflection in a fountain, deemed himself presentable for the time being, and went inside to rescue his wife from the clutches of his friend.

He found Lin inside the palace, not with Quenna or Sridhar, but in the secondary throne room with the rajah and a wide-eyed young messenger he'd seen a few times before.

The rajah looked up at him as he entered. He gestured for Gion to approach, and on his father it would have been a grand gesture indeed, but the rajah was only fifteen, and rather small. The silks and gold he wore to show his place as first in line for the throne made him look awkward, they were too heavy and large for him.

Gion approached, and bowed in the style favored in Lin's homeland, his hands folded at the level of his breastbone. The king didn't like that he refused to prostrate himself before the royal family, but the rajah didn't care. He found the odd bowing funny, and when he was little Gion had made him shriek with laughter by doing it.

Now, the boy was trying desperately to become a man, and never permitted himself a smile, but Gion saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he straightened up.

"We were looking for you," said the rajah in his best attempt at his father's grand manner of speaking, "We received news that we believe is relevant to you. Your wife was just about to go and find you."

"Thank you," Gion said. He bowed once more to the rajah and hurried to his wife.

"Lin, what's the news?" he spoke quickly in Alagaesian. Lin didn't speak it very well, but she understood that she shouldn't answer in Burhari.

Lin handed him a scroll, and spoke quickly in her native language, "I still can't read their funny writing, but it's from the spymaster. The lord prince says it's to do with us. Yangling says Khapurah and Sridhar aren't up yet. Do you understand enough to make sense of this?"

"You know I can't read Burhari any better than you can," he sighed, "You would have been better off asking Quenna."

"You can read more than me," Lin said stubbornly, "And you outrank Quenna."

Gion grimaced, "Just ask Yangling to find her. Helnt's going hunting," he added, as an explanation.

A silence that meant she was conferring with her dragon, and then she said, eyebrows raised, "Heading out to the market. I'll call her back, then?"

"Please," he said, slipping back into Burhari.

He made a show of unrolling the scroll and looking at it carefully. He could only read a few words, but they made his heart leap into his throat.

Rumor... west... coastline... great beast... fire... sky... so the word between was probably "and"... west... the World's Spine... that meant the Beors.

Rumors of a great beast of fire and sky had come from west of the Beors? Could that mean... a dragon in Alagaesia? He needed to get Quenna up here to read this.

He turned to the rajah, who was watching with a youthful eagerness not even being on a throne could erase, "Thank you, great prince, for giving us this important news."

He did not know how important it was, but he'd eat Helnt before he let anyone other than the riders know that he was anything less than completely aware of all information that came to him. Though the young prince was not the kind who played political games, Gion had been fighting the bureaucrats for power since the day they'd arrived in Burhar.

Speaking of which ... Yes, there was the telltale sign of someone hiding behind one of the curtains. His bluff had been worth the effort.

_Helnt!_ He called to his dragon, _I think you and Gabel had better not go too far, this could be very important._

He took Lin gently but firmly by the elbow, and led her away. She followed docilely, always the perfect wife – until no one was watching her.

His heart still pounded. Could it be? Could it be?

* * *

By the time Quenna returned, Gion was wearing a rut in the floor of their unofficial meeting room, and Sridhar had arrived.

"Why did you call me?" Quenna asked, "You've already got him to read it."

"This is important. The other Alagaesians are coming. Sridhar, read it again, please."

"Hail to the great –"

"Skip the formalities, please."

Sridhar grinned, "Of course, O Rider of the great Dragon whose scales—"

"Stop being a bastard and just read us the message."

Sridhar smirked, and read, "'Many rumors have recently come around the shoreline from the west. They speak of a great beast made of sky and fire, which has appeared west of the world's spine. Such rumors have appeared before, but there is a puzzling change which I felt important to mention. While it can be easily guessed that this so-called 'great beast' is a dragon, previous rumors always paint it as a fearful creature, a demon, but lately there is respect, even reverence. Also, 'made of sky' is unusual. Typically we hear 'made of night,' if there is any description of it. The leader of the Riders may be able to make sense of it.'"

He finished reading, but didn't bother to roll up the scroll this time, since he would most likely be reading it at least once more. He stared out the window, looking pensive. Gion wondered if it could possibly mean to him what him meant to the Alagaesians.

Quenna was staring at the paper in amazement, "Can that be true?"

"It sounds real enough!" Gion said excitedly, "There's a new dragon!"

The moment he said it, the door opened and a young-looking man caused a pile up behind him as he stared.

"What?"

"There's a new dragon," Gion repeated, "In Alagaesia!"

The proclamation brought forth a clamor of noise as the riders spoke. Outside, Gion could hear another clamor as the dragons were apparently relayed the message by their riders.

"A new dragon?"

"-more Forsworn-"

"-new or not, we outnumber them-"

"-could be unaffiliated-"

"How do you know?" asked Jace, the oldest among them, and the only one who seemed to be capable of being heard despite whatever noise was around.

Sridhar produced the scroll and read the relevant part for the third time.

"I see," Jace said quietly when he had finished.

Lazily, casually, like a tiger watching a boar, he removed his sword and belt, the dagger from his sleeve, and two more from his boots and tossed them onto the table. He then sat down at his accustomed place. Gion breathed a sigh of relief as the other Riders mimicked his actions. A room full of excited, curious Riders was impossible to handle, but now that Jace had begun the ceremony of opening a meeting, things would be much more manageable.

Once the last of the weapons were on the table, Gion opened the window to the balcony, so that the dragons could hear directly, and took his seat, ignoring the customary scuffle as they all tried to fit in the space below. There was barely enough room for five dragons, let alone seventeen.

It was a typical struggle for dominance. Helnt always achieved the choice position on the roof, Yangling was usually the last one to fit into the courtyard, and the others were forced to fly above, or have the news relayed to them via their riders.

"Friends," Gion said, but his voice was drowned out by two dragons jostling for the place nearest the balcony.

He waited until peace was regained, and started again. Remembering Sridhar's presence, he spoke in Burhari, "You've heard the message. This is very important news. We have to decide what to do."

"Well, I, for one, would like to know more before we do anything," said Trist, a redheaded man of no particular ranking among the humans (but his mount was high-ranking among the dragons, which afforded him some respect – Rider politics were anything but simple), "Information is skewed at best by the time it gets around the Beors. We know nothing but a few indistinct rumors."

His dragon, the mahogany-colored Imannel, snorted an agreement. He had won the scuffle against Jace's Gabel, and his great head was resting on the balcony. The wind from the sigh ruffled Gion's hair.

"And how," Quenna said, annoyed at having been beaten in the race to speak first, "Do you propose we find out more? You said yourself that our information isn't reliable."

Trist bristled, but Lin's quiet voice cut him off, "Well, what are the possibilities? If we assume that there is a new Rider, what does that mean for us?"

"If he's allied with the king, it's a serious threat," Hellani, a male Rider who was known for his caution, offered.

"And if not?" Gion offered, "If he fights against Galbatorix?"

"If he fights against that madman, I will pledge my sword and dragon to him!" Quenna declared boldly, and her dragon Elaina trumpeted in accord.

There was a murmur of agreement around the table, but nothing definite. Quenna was brave and bold, but also rather foolhardy, and everyone knew it. A bold declaration from her was to be expected at every meeting, just as the sunrise or monsoon season was to be expected.

"And why should _we_ pledge ourselves to _him_?" Hellani asked scornfully, "Even if he fights against Galbatorix, he can't be a dragonrider of more than a few years, at the most. Even if it's an elf, he has much to learn about being a rider. How do we know that he could be a good leader? And how could anyone lead us better than Gion Hanorssen has?"

"Such high praise," Gion quipped, "I blush."

He was flattered by it, despite his flippant dismissal. The riders had such great respect for him, when all he really even did was follow common sense. He hadn't planned on leading anyone, but they followed him all the same. Almost blindly, actually, and sometimes it worried him.

"If anything," Hellani continued, unperturbed, "he should pledge his sword and dragon to _us_. Gion will lead us fittingly."

This received a much more definite approval from the assembled riders, but the dragons had no real response.

_Our riders make the pledges_, Helnt said, _we act in your best interest. If the new dragon is any right-thinking kind of dragon, it will do the same. A rider's pledge means nothing to us if it's harmful to them._

"Thank you, Helnt, for your perspective," said Jace, "But how could a pledge to Gion be hurtful to him?"

_What Gion wants is dangerous. Very dangerous. If I had not been there, I would not want him to go and fight. Should the egg have been laid after the crimes were committed, the new dragon would have no memory of them. Why, then, risk your rider for a war that is not yours?_

"Whether or not he would pledge himself to Gion, or even if we would pledge ourselves to him, is not important," Sridhar said, in his flowing and elegant way of speaking Burhari that Gion knew he would never be able to achieve, "To fight alongside him is a good ideal, but... why do we need to? We number forty three – sixty if we count the seventeen who will join us when the eggs hatch for them. The mad king and his Forsworn number fourteen. Perhaps more, but only one female dragon was among them, and she could not have laid many clutches.

"We are strong, and our dragons keep us young and healthy, even though most of us should be old and feeble by now. Surely we could fight without the aid of the new rider? Gion's original plan was to wait until we were a strength of fifty – a nice round number. The only reason this news excites us so is because we are impatient. We Burhari were not there, but through our dragons we remember the crimes committed, and we wish to right the injustices now. It can only be more so for you, who watched friends and family slaughtered.

"We are taking this new rider as a sign – a divine symbol, perhaps, that it is time to move now. We do not even know for certain whether this new rider even exists, let alone whether or not he is our ally. So, even though I suffer from the same impatience to have justice done, I say that we should not be hasty, and we shall follow our original plan."

"You're speaking sense," Lin said so quietly that the people at the other end of the table had to lean forward to hear her, "But I still want to know for sure. If Galbatorix's ranks have increased even by one, I wish to know it. Even if the new rider does not exist, it would be prudent to know what the situation is – should we stick to the original plan, we will probably leave within the decade. Yangling singled out three possible candidates just last week, so our ranks will grow again soon. We will leave Burhar, and then we will have to fight, but we must know what we are fighting. Battles are rarely lost by poor planning, but rather, by poor scouting. If we do not know what we're fighting, we may as well bind our dragons' wings before going into battle. Ignorance cripples us just as much."

"I don't deny this," said Sridhar, "But I know in my heart that when we leave Burhar for Alagaesia, we won't be going there to scout. We will be going to stay, and to fight."

"You're right," Gion said, "We _are_ being hasty, because the news _is_ exciting. We want to fight. We wanted to fight when we left," he made a sweeping gesture at the Alagaesians, "but we were just children then, and knew that we had to sacrifice the battle if we wanted to win the war. But what you said about us being strong enough to fight is also true. If we wanted to, right now we could take on Galbatorix - and win."

"That's right!" Quenna agreed. Elaina trumpeted again.

"But Lin is also right that we need to know what's happening over there, because we still don't know anything for sure. Every possibility we discussed is still just guessing," said Gion, "And that's why I'm planning to go to Alagaesia and investigate."

Indignant responses followed this, but Jace quieted them with a calm, "Alright. Who are you taking with you?"

"No one," Gion answered, "It's a scouting mission, that's all. Helnt and I can reach Alagaesia, investigate, and return inside of two months. We'll be fine."

"Unless you have a fit, or are discovered by the mad king," Lin pointed out, "You aren't going to go alone."

"Yes, I will."

"I'm coming with you," Lin said.

"As your leader, I'm ordering you to stay behind."

"And as your _wife_," Lin said, her dark eyes flashing, "I'm _telling_ you that I'm coming with you."

"You mean to tell me," Quenna cut in, "That you're going _home_ and you're_not taking us?_ You just said that we're strong enough to fight Galbatorix and win!"

"I didn't say I'm not taking you. I just said I'm not taking you right now. I want to know what's happening before I bring in our full force."

"She does have a point, Gion," said Trist, "It does seem unfair."

"I still believe it would be wise to wait," said Sridhar, "But it seems to me that anyone sent to your homeland wouldn't be able to help themselves. Terrible crimes were committed there, and we all want to put them right, with all of our souls. Can you honestly tell us that you wouldn't join in the fight? If you go, we can make no choice but to go with you."

Gion gritted his teeth,_Helnt, help me out. I don't want to put them at risk before we know anything._

_I will not go alone into a land where my kin were slain, Gion,_ Helnt said, decisively, twisting from the leader's perch on the roof so that he could get his head onto the balcony next to Imannel, _At the very least, bring Elaina. I would feel better for Yangling and Gabel's company as well. And I may not like Imannel, but he's a good ally. If the new dragon is a twisted Forsworn, I want _fighters_ with me, not my one little rider with some sharp sticks, and a foolish belief that he can keep everyone in the world safe if only he makes enough personal effort._

Gion's mouth twisted a bit, but his partner's general disdain for swords, spears and the weapons that humans made wasn't entirely unfounded. Against another human, he was formidable, but against a dragon, he was just about the right size to be called supper.

Gion looked around the table, feeling uncomfortable with the looks from his wife, best friend, and the people he'd guided to safety more than a hundred years ago. He wanted to protest, but he hadn't gotten to be the leader by going against what everyone wanted, and no rider had ever come out on top by directly denying their dragon's desires. He sighed.

"There's no way I can convince you otherwise?" he asked Lin, unable to keep the resignation out of his voice.

"None," Lin smiled gently, like the proper lady she'd been raised to be.

Gion sighed again, "Fine. Tell every Burhari, and all the people from the north. We'll leave before monsoon season starts. They may come if they wish, but make sure they all know – this is a scouting mission. Those of us who are going will not be staying to fight. When we know the situation, we will return, and bring everybody with us."

His words of caution seemed to have no effect on the riders. They were looking at each other excitedly.

"Riders of Burhar," Quenna cried, getting to her feet, "We are going _home_!"

The riders cheered, a great cacophony echoed by the dragons roaring outside. Quenna leaned across the table to hug Trist, who seemed annoyed that she had already forgotten their earlier irritation at each other.

There was a rush as everyone went to gather their weapons from the table. Lin took her two small daggers from the pile and slipped them back up into her sleeves, and then handed Gion his sword and belt, and his boot knife. He put them on slowly, but felt better when they were in their proper places. Even in a peaceful place, he didn't feel completely secure without swords and daggers at hand.

He watched them leave the room, some through the door, some by the balcony to meet their dragons, and felt thoroughly morose. The hope that had bloomed up in him at the news was gone. The meeting had gone nothing like what he had planned or hoped for.

Gion hung his head in his hands. He understood how they felt, he truly did. It had been a hundred years since they'd seen Alagaesia, and everyone wanted to go home, but at the same time, they knew almost nothing about what was happening over there. He hadn't ushered his friends to safety, spent thirty years on the run, and then spent seventy years here in Burhar building up their forces so that they could lose it all on a mad, unplanned rush back into dangerous territory.

Lin put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, and she smiled softly at him.

"Remember, my love, that you do not have to do everything by yourself."

She kissed him softly on the cheek, and Gion felt marginally better.


	2. A good try, a goodbye, and a good start

Boy howdy has it been a long time since I updated. Let me assure you - I have not forgotten about this story. I've just had copious amounts of that annoying "Real Life" stuff in the way. Please bear with me. I do intend to finish this.

* * *

Even though, after all was said and done, only seven people were going on the scouting mission, it still took a very long time to prepare for the trip. Jace almost doubted that they would be able to leave before monsoon season started and the storms grounded the dragons. Quenna and Elaina were dying of impatience, and had threatened to leave before everyone and let the rest catch up. Gion had put a stop to that, but it had come down to a fight between Elaina and Helnt, which nobody enjoyed. Elaina was still cringing submissively whenever she saw Helnt, and Quenna was stomping around, sulking like a child who'd been whipped for disobeying.

Jace agreed with Gion that they really needed a better way of working out disputes. Though so far no one's dragon had been seriously injured, it was really only a matter of time. Elaina had continued to fight for quite a bit after it was clear that Helnt had won. If Helnt had been any less even-tempered, he might have seriously hurt her in teaching her a lesson.

Gabel was impatient, too. Right now he was trying to rest, and failing rather badly. He kept jumping up at the slightest sound, hoping it would be the signal to leave.

"Calm down," Jace told him the fifth time that he'd done so, "We aren't leaving until tomorrow, and they won't leave without us. And if they did, we could catch up."

_I do not like waiting,_ Gabel said, almost sulkily, _Anticipation is always much worse than what actually comes._

"I know. But try to relax. What would we do if you were too tired to fly, because you couldn't let yourself rest before a long trip? Try not to think too much about what will happen when we get there."

_There is nothing else _to_ think about, Jace._

"There's plenty. You're just so preoccupied with that that you can't think of anything else to think about. Think about elephants. Think about tigers. Think about how silly the king looked last week when you landed right in front of him with no warning."

That made Gabel a little happier. He had no love for the king, mostly because he was scared to death of the dragons, and didn't even have enough pride or dignity to try to hide it. Scaring him was one of Gabel's favorite pastimes.

Gabel stretched a little, and Jace caught his reflection in the dragon's bright orange scales. He looked more like a ghost than ever, with all his white clothes blurred on the scales.

_Ah, here comes a ready distraction for you_, Gabel remarked, putting his head back down to rest demurely (or at least as demure as a dragon could look) on his forelegs, _Your favorite person is here. Other than me, that is._

"Who do you mean?" Jace asked.

Gabel didn't answer, but he didn't need to, because Jace looked up to see the rajah walking towards him, for once not in all his regalia. He actually looked older without all the ceremonial clothing and jewelry to make him seem like he was lost in a sea of finery. Jace smiled at the young man.

"Ah, my prince! Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well, you can try not calling me prince, that would be very kind of you," he rolled his eyes, "or else I'll give you a title and call you by it relentlessly."

"I already have a title. It's 'Rider,' just in case you'd forgotten," he smiled gently at the boy. Teasing him was only funny to a point, "What do you need, Vikram?"

"I don't know if I need it, but…" Vikram looked unsure, "I want to ask you a favor."

"What is it?" Jace asked. He knew better than to agree to something before he knew what it was. There was a reason so many legends were told about broken promises.

"Tell me how you choose the new Riders."

"I've told you before. Our dragons choose us."

"But how? How do the dragons choose you? You bring new candidates into your oh-so-secret room on a regular basis. What makes them candidates?"

Jace gave Gabel a look, "I… don't know. It never occurred to me to ask."

_We know, _Gabel answered simply, _It's like knowing that we are dragons. We simply know it._

"Gabel says that they just know."

"Then…" Vikram looked hopeful, "What about me?"

Jace paused in surprise. Vikram wanted to be a Rider? So the boy had always liked the dragons, but Jace had always assumed that he was content with being the prince. The added responsibility of being a Rider – as well as next in line to the throne – would be too much for him to want to deal with. Or so he'd thought, anyway.

"Why?" Jace asked, making no effort to conceal his surprise.

"The king in your home – he's a Rider, right?" Vikram asked. At Jace's nod, he continued, "He's mad, but it's not being a Rider and a king that makes him mad – he was mad before he ever became king. I've thought about it, and all I can think is being a Rider would be…" he trailed off, and then tried again, "since you came here, you've been a symbol to our people, to neighboring countries, to our holy men. There are cults devoted to you. You've undermined our power as the rulers of our country – not purposefully, but it has happened. If I, the rajah himself, were to join your ranks, it would be a powerful symbol that my family is still strong, that we still have the divine right to rule. As it currently stands, Jace, I think we may be moving towards a rebellion."

"A rebellion?" Jace echoed disbelievingly, "Don't be so dramatic, Vikram."

"All it would take would be one Rider to decide that he wants the power, and my family would be ousted," Vikram said seriously, and so earnestly that Jace could tell he'd been thinking about this for a long time.

"Gion would never let it happen," Jace said reassuringly, "The Riders don't want to rule. We've ruled before, and that led to our downfall. We grew soft and complacent."

"Oh, Gion could stop one dissenting Rider, of course," Vikram waved dismissively, "But if that Rider becomes more than just a Rider, if he becomes a symbol to everyone in Burhar, how can it be stopped? Even if that Rider were defeated, the crowd would continue to want to remove the royal family. You'd be made our leaders whether or not you wanted it."

"And so you want to be a Rider to stop that from happening?" Jace asked.

"You've brought change, that was inevitable, but everything is changing too much, too fast. If I were a Rider – Rider and rajah, that will keep Burhar from tearing itself apart from the changes."

"I see," Jace said simply.

Vikram looked at him seriously, and shook his head, "Not yet."

His tone was so regretful that Jace had to look away, and he studied his pale reflection in Gabel's scales again. The dragon's eyes were fixed on the rajah.

_A half-truth is far worse than a lie_, Gabel said, and Jace felt awareness of what Gabel knew slip into his mind as though it had always been there.

"Those are all good reasons why you should, my prince," Jace said, using Vikram's title to help distance himself emotionally from the conversation, which he could tell was about to become rather more intimate, "But it's not the reason for why you want to."

"Does that even matter?" Vikram asked, "I want to, yes, but I also should, and it's so rare those two are on the same side. I have a duty, Jace, to my country and to my people, from the priests to the khumbadasi(1), and I will do it. And now… my duty is also what I want."

"That was beautifully poetic way of avoiding my question, Vik."

"I do have a reason, and I… it's not a bad reason, I know, but I don't want to tell you." Vikram was blushing. It was hard to see on the dark-skinned Burhari, but it was there, and Jace knew what to look for.

"But if you want it for the wrong reasons… the dragons know what's in your heart. To do something – even the right thing – for the wrong reasons perverts the whole, and everything is tainted," Jace said, feeling frustrated with himself. Vikram had legitimate concerns over the fate of his country and his duty, and all Jace could think of was his other motivations.

_Gabel, help me_, he pleaded silently, _I'm being reduced to quoting the elves. I can't even think of anything original to say._

_This is your argument,_ Gabel answered, _Let him see the eggs._

_What? Do you think he has a chance?_

_Not really_, Gabel stretched a wing, _but he does have a spark. And you do want to end this conversation. This will solve it quickly._

Gabel stood up, stretching like a cat, _I'm going to go see if Kumud is up for wrestling._

_What? Don't just abandon me!_ Gabel ignored him, and Jace brandished a fist after the dragon as he slinked away, _You traitor._

He swore he could feel the dragon smirking at him.

Vikram was watching the silent exchange with interest. Jace turned back to him, trying his best not to look too sulky. He sighed, shaking his head.

"I… you know I can't promise you anything other than a chance to try? If you're destined for a dragon, you'll have a dragon. If you're not, then you won't."

"That's enough," Vikram said, "I have to at least try."

Jace sighed again, "Then come with me, I guess."

Vikram's smile was nothing short of brilliant. He followed Jace down the winding trail and out of the main garden, to the area that had been specifically built for the dragons to lay their eggs. It had been magically hidden by the Burhari priests, so that even if someone had the idea to try and steal an egg, they wouldn't be able to do so. Only the Riders and their guests could enter. Everyone else just slid right past it no matter how hard they might try.

"I tried to get in here when I was a child," Vikram said, "I spent a week trying to figure out the secret. What is it?"

Jace smiled at him, and extended his hand, "The secret is that I'm inviting you in. Give me your hand."

If he hadn't been a Rider, he would never have gotten away with taking Vikram's hand. Only the highest levels of society were allowed to touch the royal family without getting their hand cut off. Jace thought the custom barbaric, but its original purpose was to prevent assassination attempts by magic. It wasn't that successful, but the rule remained.

Vikram looked around, "Huh. I had been expecting something more… grand."

The birthing area was _not_ much to look at. Charred and scorched, with huge boulders strewn around. There were claw marks gouged into the ground all over. At the other side of the wreckage stood a ramshackle shed. Especially when contrasted with the rest of the palace grounds, the birthing area was a mess.

"What would the point be? Dragons who are giving birth don't need luxury, the need things to bite and set on fire," Jace pointed at the shed, "Over there."

Jace realized he was still holding Vikram's hand and hurriedly let it go. There was necessity, and then there was impropriety. They began to pick their way across the uneven ground.

The shed was dim inside, but Jace left the door open and the light sparkled off the eggs lined up neatly on the shelves. Quenna had been in here last, he could tell. She had arranged them by color. He smiled at the thought.

Vikram bit his lip, "How will I know if one is mine?"

"Touch them," Jace said, "They're in a safe place, so if one is meant for you, it should react instantly to your touch."

"Alright," Vikram said. He looked less excited and more nervous now, but he moved with grace and dignity down the line of eggs, touching each one for a few seconds, resting his hand on it. When he finally reached the last one, he looked back and saw that not a single one of the eggs had reacted to his presence, and his face fell.

"I'm sorry," said Jace, "But I told you a couldn't promise anything."

"I know," said the prince, rubbing his face, "But I'd hoped…"

"Let's go," Jace held out his hand to Vikram again, and they left the birthing area together.

* * *

Jace slept well despite his excitement, and woke in the gray light just before dawn. He gathered his bags, packed the previous night, and checked his quarters one last time for anything he might have forgotten. After retrieving once last dagger, he set out the door.

"You weren't going to say goodbye?"

Jace jumped. He had to admit, startling him was quite a feat for Vikram.

"I said goodbye yesterday, and wasn't going to wake you at such an early hour," he replied, "Don't startle me like that. I could have stabbed you."

"No you couldn't," Vikram smiled, "You like me too much. How long will you be staying before you return home?"

_Alagaesia is my home,_ he thought, _as much as I may like it here._ Out loud he said, "It's impossible to say – it really all depends on what we find there."

"But you will come back?" Vikram asked.

"Of course I will. I have too many friends here to stay away."

Vikram smiled, "I'll miss you, but I wish you the best of luck on your trip."

"Thank you," Jace replied, "But I have to go now or I'll make everyone late. Goodbye, Vik."

"Goodbye, Jace."

Jace waved at him as he left the palace. Goodbyes or not, nothing could dampen his excitement this morning.

It was going to be a beautiful day for flying. The sun was up, burning off the early morning mist and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The wind wasn't too bad either, with only an occasional breeze. Jace took a deep breath of the fresh morning air as he grabbed his saddlebags and headed for the field outside the city where they would take off.

_Looks like a good day, Gabel,_ he said to his dragon, _we'll even have a tailwind to start with._

_You're in a better mood than some,_ Gabel replied, _Lin almost delayed us another day_.

_What? Why?_

_Gion had a fit last night. It only lasted a few minutes, and he's feeling better this morning, but Lin was still concerned_.

_I don't blame her. Is everyone else okay?_

_Quenna and Elaina are already in the air, whining about how slow we all are, Trist is on his way – Imannel says he's complaining about how early it is, Sridhar is double-checking _everything_, and Khapurah just arrived._

_Everything's normal, then._ Jace smiled, _I'll hurry. I'd hate to hold everyone up._

He took a deep breath and muttered the words to a spell, and took off running. The spell kept his breathing steadier and easier, and he was able to run for a much longer time, if not significantly faster. He arrived at the field in under twenty minutes, not even winded by the two-mile run.

"Good morning, Jace," Sridhar greeted him as he jogged up to Sridhar's dragon Kumud, "You have all your supplies?"

"Clothing, bedroll, and weapons are all accounted for."

"And did you remember food?" Sridhar asked, sounding annoyed, "Tools? Medicines? We can't bring that much, we need to make sure that we have anything we may need."

"Enough dried meat to fill a barn," Jace replied, "And some tubers. I've also got a sack of fruit, but that'll be gone in four days. I brought some herbs, too. And a hammer, and a whetstone. Does that cover enough possible needs for you?"

Sridhar nodded, "That'll do. Quenna brought pickles of all kinds, so we should be able to manage on food. We'll be able to hunt or gather more on the way. I'm more concerned about other supplies."

Jace nodded, and hopped over Kumud's tail. Gion and Lin were standing together, with Helnt and Yangling sitting by them, and he could tell that they had been arguing even without hearing a word. Lin had that incredibly sour look she only got when she thought her husband was being an idiot.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Gion, "I heard you had another fit last night."

"I'm _fine_," Gion protested, glancing at his wife, "I just got in the way of some stray smoke. It didn't even last for five minutes."

Jace nodded, and headed for Gabel, "We'll be ready soon," he announced, settling down the bags and attaching them to Gabel's saddle.

_Good,_ Gabel rumbled, _I'm as impatient as Quenna._

"Not possible, my heart," Jace smiled.

Gabel rumbled low in his throat, _Are you done?_

"I would be, if you would hold still for a moment!" Jace chided, struggling with the straps on the saddlebags.

Gabel sighed a puff of agitated smoke, but held perfectly still while waiting for Jace to finish. When he had, Jace swung himself into the saddle and waved to Gion.

"Ready over here!" he called.

Gion waved back in acknowledgement, calling something Jace didn't quite catch to Sridhar.

The Burhari stood in his saddle. Jace watched as he carefully made the elegant movements that were the center of Burhari magic. When he stopped, he spoke, his voice as clear as if he were standing right next to Jace.

"We do not want to have to turn back or stop. Is everyone ready?" Sridhar asked.

The response from the dragons and their Riders was deafening. Jace couldn't help but smile as he yelled his reply.

"Then we shall go," Sridhar replied, the smile evident in his voice. He sat back down and strapped his legs into the saddle.

Gabel opened his wings and sprang forward. With the first all-important downstroke, they lifted off the ground. Jace whooped as the wind whistled past his ears. It had been a hundred years, but now they were _finally_ ready to go home.

The seven dragons turned to the west.

* * *

(1) Water-carriers. Also prostitutes.

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